The Hunter's Stories
by GreyFang82
Summary: Trevor was a normal college age guy with no plans for the future. But after his father's death at the hand of something supernatural, he has to delve into a world of hidden black magic and terrifying cryptids. This is his journey to protect the mortal world from the dark horrors in the night. Though, it may cost more than he first thought.


My dad was always a huge fan of hunting, he loved his trips to the woods armed with a hunting bow. I'm never knew why he liked them over guns. If you knew my dad he is a pretty conservative guy, so the fact he didn't own a bunch of guns was pretty surprising to most people. Anyways, he was a huge hunting fanatic and he liked to take grandpa from time to time. So, imagine my shock when I heard that he died on a hunting trip with gramps backing him up.

Needless to say, I was pretty shook up about what I heard. It was all a blur of questions and angry yelling. But eventually I calmed down and planned a trip back to Illinois. From what I heard it was a bear attack, at the time I didn't know any better but I later learned how unusual it really was. I wasn't like my dad, I was just a college student that moved out of state in hopes of getting a better future than just being stuck as a Walmart employee. I wasn't very close to my dad either, not since my mom died. But when I walked to see my parent's house… it hit hard. I couldn't get much further than the doorstep, not until my grandpa opened the door.

"Hey kid…" Grampa was able to choke out from a barely audible greeting.

"Hey… gramps" I was on the verge of tears.

"...I'm sorry son" was all he could say before I ran to hug him.

We went inside and he made me some coffee as we sat at the kitchen table. I couldn't even touch the drink, but gramps downed almost half of it in almost a blink of an eye. I wanted to ask what happened. But, honestly, I was scared. I didn't want to hear how my dad was killed, how he was maimed and eaten. But it looks like I didn't need to.

"It happened so fast son." Gramps started to say "One moment we saw a nice white tail, next thing I knew. The damned thing had already ripped him open"

I let out a ragged sigh, before opening my mouth "The bear, yeah?"

My grandpa didn't change his face, he simply looked at me with a stern face. I took the silence as confirmation. He helped me unpack before leaving.

We didn't see each other until the funeral. It was a somber day, it wasn't raining or anything like that, but the sun seemed just a bit dimmer than usual. It was a closed casket funeral, from what I heard there wasn't much left to see of him. Later that day is when his will was talked about, my dad left everything he had to me, his hunting equipment, his pride and joy 1998 Dodge Ram 1500… and our family house.

I dropped out of college, lucky for me I set up a plan to pay off only the time of the classes I have already taken. Thought that still left a pretty penny afterwards, but I can thank my dad bailing me out on that one with a car he had already bought me for my upcoming birthday. I was sad having to sell what could have been my father's last gift to me, but I think he would be fine with me selling it to keep the "feds off my back" as he would say.

It was a few days after his funeral when I sat down and started to do some research. I had never really paid attention to hunting or wildlife in Illinois and thought bear attacks should be common occurrence right? What was suppose to put my mind at ease did the opposite, not any kind of bears sets up in Illinois. The last sighting was in 09. What the hell?

It was pretty late I finally got to my grandpa's house, it was raining pretty hard honestly. After a good minute after I knocked he opened his door and let me in.

He was weirdly calm when I sat down, he seemed like this was a normal everyday thing for him, when not even a week before his son died right in front of him. He brought me some coffee just like when I met him at my parent's house.

"So, what brings you here son?" Gramps said after getting a good sip of coffee.

I was silent for a good minute before I cut right to the chase "What killed my dad?"

He paused for a second after the question, and not a second later he said "a bear"

I couldn't hold my temper, I slammed my fists on the table and knocking over the coffee he made me before yelling out "BULLSHIT! Tell me what happened!"

Gramps didn't even flinch from my slam and simply held still his coffee from spilling over. He looks at me in my eyes, his stare almost going through me.

But that didn't stop me "Tell me! You were there, YOU SAW, and you know DAMN well bears don't travel here!" I said

Gramps took another sip of his coffee with an almost apathetic movement, "Only a bear can do what happend to your father"

"But we both know it wasn't a bear" I responded

"But do YOU want to know?" he says back, not missing a beat.

"You're damn right I do!" I say back, frustration in my voice.

My grandpa simply let out a sigh and stood up, "Follow me then" was the last thing he said before walking out the back door.

I followed him through the pouring rain as he made his way from his house to his homemade shed. We could barely fit in the small thing, but in one swift movement he kicked off the small carpet away from the center of the shed. It revealed a wooden hatch, he reached down and opened it up to show a staircase to a lower room. "After you" is all he said.

I climbed down the stairs to see a dark room, I moved to the side of the stairs and waited for him to turn on the lights. He walked down the stairs and closed the hatch, he then walks next to me and flips a switch I couldn't see. In an instant the room was filled with buzzing lights and revealed highlighted maps, bookshelves reaching the top of the room, and what caught him off guard the most… was the walls full of guns.

I was stunned for a moment, how had I never seen this before? How long has this been hidden from me? I didn't get far into questioning gramps before he shoved an open book to me. "Page 114, paragraph 5" is what gramps told me as he walked to grab things hanging off the maps.

I flip open the book and began to read. "Quicksilver coyotes move faster than a most thoroughbred horse being ridden by the most seasoned jockey, the human eye canst not e'en course their movements, and are most territorial… gramps what is this?" I say to him. "Why did you hand me this fairytale book? I said I wanted answers!" I yelled as I slammed the book onto a nearby table.

Gramps sat down and looked at me "Your father was face to face with what looked like a pretty big coyote, obviously nothing to worry about for a hunter like himself. Didn't even need to call me, despite only being a few steps away. We lost track of a decent buck when we split to look for him. I look away for less than a minute… and I find my boy impaled on a branch of a tree and his skull and spine broken to pieces." The look on his face was dead serious, "I tried to take out the coyote but by the time I raised my crossbow the mutt was gone," he said without a hint of emotion on his face. He then walks up to show me a picture…

It was my dad, his corpse in the state just as my grandfather explained to me. I nearly threw up right there, but I managed to keep it down. "I was too old to do anything, too old to help my boy…" gramp's voiced slipped.

The room fell silent for a bit. Questions still rushed and popped into my mind, how was this possible? What the hell does this mean? Is this some kind of super coyote? But one question stood out from the rest.

"When are we gonna go find it?"

My grandpa looked at me like I had said the dumbest thing he had ever heard, "we ain't gonna go find it." He said sternly to me. "Why the hell not? You said it's a coyote yeah? I don't know how a small fucking dog can do what you say, but why can't we just go find the thing and shoot it dead?" My gramps got up and stared me down "You have no idea what you're your saying, you don't even know what your dealing with. That's a goddamn monster, and monster hunting is long beyond my years".

I scoffed "I don't believe in monsters, but if that's the fucker that killed dad, then you sure as hell can expect me to do it if you're not." That clearly pissed him off, because as soon as I said that he pushed me up the stairs and back to my truck yelling "Go home and forget about this, don't do anything stupid Trevor". I drove home with hate in my mind, but nowhere to put it. By the time I made it to bed I just fell into it and probably forgetting what happened in the morning.

A week passed with me finally looking for a job, as it would seem I was stuck in my hometown until further notice. That was when I heard a knock at the door, and it surprised me to see gramps on the other side. I let him in without saying a thing, and started to make coffee for him.

But he stopped me before I got far and talked to me. "Do you still want to go hunt that thing." was all he said.

I stopped and looked at him. "I don't know why you're making a coyote seem like a big deal. It's smaller than those big dogs" I say back to him. My grandpa shook his head "You still think it's a normal coyote?" is what he finally said to me "What else could it be, dad must of slipped really bad and impaled himself."

I paused, "and didn't want to go through that and shot himself." I look back at him before saying "But the chance to kill the thing that lead to his death was good enough for me." Grandpa got up and looked me in the eyes "It wasn't some damn coyote, it was a monster son. Cryptid as most people would call it. And this ain't a joke". I obviously rolled my eyes before speaking "Alright, but why are you here?". Grandpa took a moment before answering "Look, you need to understand that you don't know what you think you do son and if you want to kill that thing I need you to understand what it really is." I was confused

"What do you mean?" is what I said.

"Come with me and I'll show you son." is what he said as he made his way back to his truck.

I followed him.

The drive was pretty long drive from my parents' home, and even my grandpa's home. It took a good five hours until we came up on a road that leads to a very tree heavy forest lined road. Trees with vine-like branches where in the front of the small house, a man was sitting in a chair watching use pull up to his house. He wore a leather hat with a plaid shirt, and normal jeans, he was clearly native american in ethnicity. We parked at the front of the house and got out of the truck at the same time, but I followed behind my grandpa as we walked up.

The man's facial expression didn't change, and he only spoke when both of us where an arm's length away.

"I would welcome you, but something tells me this isn't a social visit." the stranger said.

"Indeed. I'm sorry my friend" my grandpa said in response.

"So to what can I owe this visit?" he said as he turned to face me.

"I want you to show him" was what my grandpa said.

The man quickly changed his glance to meet my grandpa's. A facial expression clearly saying "are you sure" to him. My grandpa only nodded.

Up to this point in time I thought this was all some kind of joke or act to make me not question my gramp's weird story. But… I had no idea how wrong I was.

The man got up and led us to a shed similar to the one my grandpa had, but the basement was FAR larger than my grandpa's and what it had was far more dangerous than any gun.

At the end of the corridor under the shed was what looked like a coyote with the worst case of mange I have ever seen.

"Damn gramps, why are you showing me some kind of sick pet store?" I joked, but was only met with silence.

The Coyote was growling at us, and so the man went to a long wooden pin on the side of it all. The few seconds I saw the pin open I could see a large amount of rabbits across an artificially lit up area. The man pulled out a large rabbit, and at that moment the coyote began to stop growling and began whimpering.

In one quick motion the man placed the rabbit on a closed off room that was only separated itself with the coyote by a metal contraption. With a simple pull of a rope now allowed the two beasts to freely move toward each other. The rabbit simply sat there with its nose moving as the coyote slowly moved toward the thing.

I was expecting the normal thing to happen, the coyote would go for the neck with a bite and begin to eat the thing. But just a moment before it pounced, I realized how wrong I was.

It's muzzle started to open… but it wasn't like a dog or any other kind of animal I've seen. Because it's muzzle split into a cross pattern and each fourth of the jaw was lined with hook-like teeth and where the tongue should be, was a long black needle.

My heart started to beat out of my chest, and I was paralyzed. It wasn't something like you've seen something scary and you're body refused to move, no this thing literally made it so I couldn't move. How do I know this? Because the rabbit's nose stopped twitching and was as still as a statue. Without another second, the coyote stabbed the rabbit through its neck.

The disturbing sound of wet slurping and sucking reminded me of when a person was nearly out of pop and you could hear the air bubbles travel up the straw with the pop.

I was stuck there watching the thing slowly drain the rabbit, it's almost as if its muscle became liquid and was being slurped up. All that was left was skin and bone.

In that moment a tarp fell over the scene and I was able to move again. You could guess that my first action was to run outside and puke my guts out. My grandpa and his friend followed me outside.

When I was able to talk again, I started it off with yelling "What the fuck was that!"

My grandpa replied right away, without a hint of fear or shakiness of "A monster, a Chupacabra specifically"

I look at him like he's crazy but I can't say what he was saying was bullshit, but I then began to puke again. My gramps quickly grabbed me by my shirt collar and dragged me back to his truck. "I knew it was a mistake to take you here. I should have known you couldn't handle it" was what he said as he pulled me.

But before he could take me far before his friend stopped him. "That is not just Robert, you drag the boy here only to deny him a chance to answer"

My grandpa shot back just as fast "You saw him, he froze up. Neither you nor I had a reaction that bad. Hell, he didn't even struggle"

I quickly pulled away from my grandfather and protested "There is no way in hell I'm gonna forget what just happened. If you're thinking of getting me to forget finding what killed dad, then you're dead fucking wrong".

He looked at me with the most serious face I've ever seen him give. But I didn't flinch and met his gaze head on.

He stared at me for a good minute before looking back at his friend. I couldn't see what he did but it was clear he made some kind of movement because gramps finally spoke again, "If you go down this path, you're never gonna be the same again. You won't be able to live a normal life if you want to chase the damn thing"

I looked at him, with determination in my eyes. I never knew what I was gonna do with my life, even when I finally entered college I had no major in mind, I just was hoping it would drop into my lap. Ironic, because now it really did fall into my lap and now I regret letting it be chosen for me. But I need to embrace it. For my dad.

I gave a nod, and that's when I started my journey into becoming a hunter. I don't think I could ever forget that fateful day.


End file.
